A Wayward Dream

A Wayward Dream

~~~

Tonight I revisited the songs

We used to dance to

I thought about

The way our bodies

Touched and swayed

To the music

And for a few moments

We were suspended

In time

~~~

A time when we

Were in tune

With one another

About seven years

Packed with laughter

tears tender memories

Some were bad

But mostly good

Deep and true

~~~

A wayward dream

of eternal love

trapped between the past

And between the now

A love paralleled

Alive with contradiction

For my heart to

Achingly dream

A wayward dream

Written by: Theresa H Hall

December 29, 2016 @ 5:00 AM

Copyright © 2016 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Artistic Inclination

Painting by Pablo Picasso

Artistic Inclination

~~~

Woke up today with my mind

Brimming over with ideas

Watched a Picasso video

Thanks to Julian

A colleague

~~

A friend really

He shares with us

Historical stories and facts

To keep us coming back

For more

~

So back to my story

About how I have

Stayed in the background

Until now for such a

Long time

~

It’s just my artist’s inclination

Lying quietly while my brain

Produces dreams and such

Feeling terrific vibratory joy

A rush

~

It’s my artistic inclination

Painting in my head

Poetic license

Scripting words for the living

The dead

~

My artistic inclination

Singing favorite tunes

Visiting musical days past

And yearning for what is

To come

~

Theresa H Hall

February 9, 2016 @3:33 PM

Copyright © 2016 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Sleepwalker Madness

“Inside The Dream”

~~~

A person who walks during their rest

Is one who travels roads of unknown

Territories with ghostly trails of wisp-like

Bodies that melt into the background

Fading with the memory of seconds

Remembered and then quickly lost

~~~

It is a sleepwalker madness that

Pushes the dreamer to run down

Dark narrow passages whilst

Avoiding the heavy footfalls of those

Who approach with intent to enter

Into their mind and speak

~~~

The despair of the dreamer who

Awakens from the thrashing and

 Pounding of their heart trying to

Free itself from the ribs which

Hold it prisoner keeping it safe

Sleepwalker madness deep within

~~~

by: Theresa H Hall

October 20, 2013 @ 1:44 p.m.

Copyright © 2013 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

I’m On A Journey

“Dream Fairy by Alexandria Mezzano LaNaier”

~~~

I’m on a journey

I walk in faith

Even though I

Plod forward slowly

There seems to be

No change in scenery

Yet I forge onward

~~~

I am facilitating

My future in the

Face of defeat

No matter what

My circumstances

~~~

I still believe

I will reach

My destination

For I have dreamed

The outcome and

I know it’s real

~~~

by: Theresa H Hall

October 18, 2013 @ 7:30 p.m.

Copyright © 2013 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Missing Janet

“Flower by Lorenzo Herrera 2004”

Missing Janet

~~~

I miss talking

On the phone

I miss the warmth

Of your embrace

The way you’d listen

To my day

While praying for

My safety and happiness

You were my go-to friend

Again and again and again

~~~

I think about you

Everyday

The way you’d

Brighten up my day

With such sweetness

You shared my joy

And helped me chase

My fears away

You made me feel okay

Again and again and again

~~~

I want to breach the barriers

Keeping us apart

Friendship so good

Stored treasure in my heart

Because it’s something

I cannot replace

No one can ever

Fill that space

And time will not erase

Just what you mean to me

What you were to me

Missing Janet

~~~

Theresa H Hall

September 16, 2013 @8:19 PM

Note: My beautiful sister-in-law, Janet Hall Fullen, left this world two years ago, on July 30, 2011. She fought the good fight, battling breast cancer for five-long years. I never once heard her complain. She was lovely … loved by her family, her friends and people from around the globe. We celebrate her life because she touched us with love, practical advice, and presented herself as the lady she was, a dignified woman who loved God, trusted in Him and shared her faith with the rest of us.

 I find myself reaching for the telephone to call her several times a week. I felt her presence Monday evening, so I wrote this down. She was a true friend and my family … Missing Janet.

 

Copyright © 2013 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Songs In 3/4 Time

~~~

The rhythmic timing

Matches the beats

Of my heart

At once awakened

From self-imposed slumber

Inwardly I sway 

One-two-three

Songs in 3/4 time

~~~

Eyes open or closed 

I waltz along

For the song

Takes me to 

Another place

One-two-three

Songs in 3/4 time

~~~

Always I’m forever 

Drawn to music

Written by others

Who understand

The magic of

One-two-three

Songs in 3/4 time

~~~

I love to dance

Imaginary waltzes

Spinning round and

Dipping down into 

Romantic liaisons

From my youth

Keeping time

One–two-three

Songs in 3/4 time

~~~

Written by: Theresa H Hall

September 2, 2013 @ 1:11 PM

Copyright © 2013 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Ballerina Down Downtown

~~~

City lights surround

The stage set with a

Cast of three dancers

Ballerina down downtown

Transfixed I watch as your hand

Gracefully plays across imagined

Waves etched within the

Air around you

Ballerina down downtown

~~~

You lift your arms effortlessly

Reaching up as heavy drops of rain

Pound their rhythmic

Splashes of song

Ballerina down downtown

Two male dancers lift and

Pass you to-and-fro

Your slim body

Embraces the quickening beat

Ballerina down downtown

~~~

Rain pelts down even harder

Wet concrete

Wet stage

You dance anyway

Expressive movements are

Watched by all seated

Underneath colored umbrellas

Ballerina wearing a crown

Ballerina down downtown

~~~

We marvel at the excellent

Steps and beautifully arched bodies

Intertwining beneath

The cloudy night sky

Droplets of  shimmering rain 

Cascade across your bodies

Soaking costumes

To plaster themselves to the wearer

Ballerina down downtown

~~~

 Strings of guitar and violin

Accompany perfectly pitched flute notes

And piano chords

A true ensemble of artist love

Interpreted through hands

Of like-minded musicians

Together the dancers convey

Heartfelt harmony 

As they end their dance

Beneath city lights

The life-giving rain

They quietly bow

Before their applauding audience 

Ballerina down downtown

 

by Theresa H Hall

@2 p.m. 08-15-13

Copyright © 2013 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.

Awakened Me

“Awakened Me”

~~~

Lately I’ve hidden away wondering if my relevance

Was no more than a mysterious shimmering waviness

Hovering just above the desert road

Evaporating into the skies melding into rain clouds

To wash clean the earth

Washing me clean of cluttered thinking

To grind me down into the pulp of a new form of life

But how could I question these things

Unless I am remembering the chain of events

That brought these revelations before my mind

I stand on the cliff of comprehension

Balancing between the reality I accepted and

The necessary truths deeply imbedded in my soul

Ingrained at a precise moment in space

The birth of the universe

Born knowing what I considered

Was the simple complicated musings of a being

Coming to realize the interconnection

To every possible living thing in existence

I remember the truth the first time I read these words

“Be still and know that I am God”

Some of the most powerful and revealing words

To be spoken aloud as they expose the dawning of time

For what we truly are

One with our Creator

Thank you Father for Your gift of life

Truth in opening my spirit to

Awaken me so I am

Consciously aware of our connection

Theresa H Hall written today @ 0700

Indelibly Marked

~~~

Her hand was a cool gentle stroke

Against my heated brow

For I had been cast down

By raging fever

For two days now

~~~

I was lifted from my cot

Twice a day

Into Mama’s arms

While Aunt Myna and Mother

Changed the bedding

New pajamas for me

I could smell the sunshine

As I was lying again

Propped against soft pillows

~~~

My Mother’s hands

We’re dainty and feminine

Capable and always cool

Sometimes she would

Warm them beneath my shirt

Because I had a warm tummy

We laughed and laughed

~~~

Whenever I was ill

She would stroke my forehead

In order to soothe me

Reassure me

That she would not leave

On the third day

The fever broke

and no longer

Was my body racked

By hard coughing

My Mother left

Her indelible mark

~~~

Even now I remember

Her touch

Light as a feather

Cooling and healing

I remember her touch

Filled with love

Her indelible mark

Upon my heart

~~~

Theresa H Hall

July 31,2012 @ 2 PM

It’s The Little Things In Life

~~~~~

I once did most everything

In a large way

I’d make an entrance

Dress to be seen

Attract attention

Give expensive gifts

That was the past

~~~~~

Now I live by

Words and deeds

The smallest gifts

Effort – love and time

Filled with forethought

I live a small life

Full of meaning

Understanding that

It’s the little things in life

That mean the most

Theresa H Hall

@ 1PM

Entering The Dream

“I felt myself melting into my dream …”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt myself melting

Entering this dream

Dissolving downward down

Being absorbed

Swallowed up into

The place I had been going

For three nights now

The dream … repeating over and again

Of those times long ago when I was yours

And you were mine

Time dissolved into frenzied

Twisted sheets and FM radio waves

Made popular by late night disc-jockeys

Exhaled smoke drifted around us

Empty wine glasses

Lay strewn about like

The lifeless clothes

Beside them

Dreams take place

In dimensional space

Where we relive those moments

We believed would last

For all time

But fate played her hand

We were meant to be together

Only until we moved on

But for three days we visit

This quiet place where

We share private yearnings

Glad to touch visceral reflection

Tucked away under lock and key

Stored away in our minds

Until next we meet

I felt myself melting into my dream

Sinking downward quickly

Entering this mystical place

Where time stands still

We embrace

No time has passed at all

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Theresa H Hall

@3:16 PM

self portrait July 26, 2012

Give Me That Jazz

 

Give me the rain-dampened

New York streets

Any time of the day

But especially by night

And add in the sounds

Of jazz that have echoed within

My heart ever since

My Daddy played those records

That must be the reason

I am listening

Right now to the avant-garde notes

Played by artistic fingers

Stroking their instruments into

Melodic bliss

I cannot wait to explore today

As I will fill the airwaves with

These symbolic strings of my heart

And I will be in my New York

Frame of mind

Theresa H Hall

@ 4:37 AM

We Become All

We Become All

~~~~~ 

We ride aboard

The recycled-life planet

Everything which exists here

Has been created 

From something tiny

Born into a new day

Reconstructed over time

And sifted into the 

Recycled blending of newness

Dead but for three days

To be resurrected again

Over again so that

We can experience all values

Of life and learn from 

Becoming every personality

Human fish fowl mammal

From the lowest being

To the highest

In order to know 

Our reason for living

Finding the truth buried

Deep within our hearts

We become all

~~~

Theresa H Hall

Today

Little Tree Horse

Little tree horse

Never runs or plays

Never utters a sound

Once placed he stays

His big yellow head

Is hung each year

By blue satin ribbon

He brings such cheer

He knows he is handsome

Against deep evergreen

He’s poised at a standstill

A holiday dream

Theresa H Hall

Freelance Writer / Independent Contractor

Captured In Time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A memory is stored somewhere in our mind

Kept away and hidden so others will not find

Precious little secrets meant to be concealed 

They lie in deep recess until they are revealed

Taken out turned over again to be examined

Relived thought about treasured contraband

Frozen little moments that make up our life

No matter if stored for recall or from strife

Are there any time we need them in our life

Whether free or paid for with high price

Tired Of Being Tired

~~~~~~~~~~

Tired of being tired

Of all these trials

Spoken in soft tones

Cut then radiated

Burnt then chemo

She softly moans

To be granted release

From the torment

She now sighs

Because she’s so

Tired of being tired

* Please make a donation for Breast Cancer Victims

Sixty Hours

Sixty Hours

Of the days in a week

Fridays the ones we seek

They make us pause think

Weekend’s here in a blink

So from Friday evening

Till Monday’s dawn

Sixty hours for enjoying

No time to yawn

Grab some friends

Cards food and drink

From gardens we tend

Cut flowers pink

Spread blankets down

Sitting on the ground

Enjoying the company

Making new memories

(for Peg Buckley)

Fallen Apples

Fallen Apples

Walk with me

He took my hand

He led me

Over orchard land

Stepping on weeds  

And apples down

Beneath our feet

On the ground

We took a smoke

Under the sky

Laughingly spoke

With our eyes

We both knew

We recognized

Love so new

With every sigh

Midnight blue

Velvet night

Scattered fruit

Upon the ground

Scented perfume

Red and round

Fallen apples

You and me

Fallen apples

Beneath the trees

Tiny Life

 

Tiny Life

 

Within the walls of my tiny life

There is much significance

And heartfelt meaning

Intention for quality

In everything I do

But most of all is the joy

Of family friends and you

 

And as my life draws toward

The end I won’t pretend

I’ve had no sorrows because

Without them I would have

Never truly known

The extreme joys of loving

Family friends and you

 

 

Sugar Cloud

There is a world

Away from here

Where sugar dances

In the air

Spun around

A bowl of charm

Winding down around

Wisps of feathery dreams

Encased with drama

Exposing her complex identity

Grains of finely ground sugar

Spins rapidly in turns

Frictional heat

Morphed sugar grains

Into cottony yarns

Like fine-spun silk

To mount it round

On paper cone

Turning round and round

Building puffs of sweet

Clouds to eat

A carnival adorned

With spells she tempts

Our waiting tongues

Melting sugar clouds

Inside our mouths

 

© Theresa H Hall